


The Clawing, Cloying, Chronic Disease

by intensedreams



Series: Lies and lust [3]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: ANGST YAS, Angst, Bae, F/F, Oh yes, i meant to write angry sex but that'll come next time, i will earn my nickname of satan, is - Freeform, mention of blandit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-11
Updated: 2017-09-11
Packaged: 2018-12-26 17:11:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12063447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intensedreams/pseuds/intensedreams
Summary: Emma Swan was supposed to marry the pirate today.The very thought seemed preposterous but then again, Regina supposed, their entire existence didn’t lend itself to reasonable thoughts.





	The Clawing, Cloying, Chronic Disease

**Author's Note:**

> *A continuation of my Lies and Lust series.*  
> OKAY back for part 3 of this situation, many years after the last two parts of the series. You probably want to read the other bits first but you could read this as a stand alone.
> 
> Obvious mention of the trashbucket that is hooky and the farce of the wedding and the rotting pile of timber that is blandit.
> 
> I don't have a beta but i've gone through it a few times so i hope i've not not missed anything.
> 
> Please let me know what you think of this, feed the bard. Also i like causing pain via words so i hope i achieved that :D

Emma Swan was supposed to marry the pirate today.

 

The very thought seemed preposterous but then again, Regina supposed, their entire existence didn’t lend itself to reasonable thoughts. She leant on the rail overlooking the harbour, her brown eyes set on the vague divide between grey ocean and grey sky. It was cold, the clouds impenetrable, the seagulls offensively loud. 

 

She could hear the staccato clang of boat mast against cable, and felt the usual comfort she found in that noise sour with the growing disgust and unease in her belly.

 

Emma Swan was going to tie herself to that waste of human energy today.

 

Where did her Emma go?

 

That Emma who had set her on fire, years before. Emma who could make the queen in Regina roll over willingly, bear her belly and part her legs in eager submission.

 

Regina breathed warm air onto her cupped hands and sighed as she unwillingly thought of her life since Emma Swan. A litany of intense gazes, words, touches. Years of teamwork, companionship, sex, messy and aggressive, gentle and soothing. Regina had shared her memories with Emma. Put her life on the line for her. Emma had thrown herself into and unknown darkness, eyes wild with certainty and willingness. There was too much to even contemplate without sitting down with a bottle of wine.

 

Years of growing to understand how they were both imperfect and battered, but never broken, never bent. Regina sniffed and revised that thought.

 

Emma was bending right now. Had been for some time now.

 

And Regina was complicit. She’d helped go to hell and back. They all had. All the while Emma opined about how she was at fault for that dark bastards deeds and Regina had time and time again bitten her tongue until iron bloomed in her mouth. She’d never exercised such self censorship, such control, all for the love of her beloved Emma Swan who was chasing a version of happiness with all the zealousness of a desperate person in denial.

 

Regina was a coward. She knew it now. She’d known it back then too but now, so close to the terrifying concept that marriage held for her, her need to  _ do _ something was overwhelming that paralysis.

 

Hook was a clawing, cloying, chronic disease that wound it’s way into all the cracks and festered and nobody was stopping him.

 

Henry had come across her nursing cider in the lounge the night before, her eyes glassy and her gaze lost in the mesmerising chaos of the fireplace. His words were soft but precise. “Are you going to do something, mom?” 

 

And she knew what he meant. Of course she did. She’d been haunting the town in the run up to this demonic event, and even Ruby and Dorothy had knowingly met her eyes before looking pointedly at the blonde and her dark shadow several times. Even Archie. 

 

Regina felt like even Pongo was looking at her expectantly.

 

Snow had spent many an afternoon crowing about how the ceremony would take place close to home, so close that it was in fact on the rooftop of the building Emma lived in. She’d taken great care in talking at lengths about various details that Regina had worked hard not to remember. It had sounded to Regina like Snow was reassuring herself.

 

She knew Snow. But Snow was not about to break Emma’s vice like grip on what she had repeatedly intoned was her happiness. 

 

Nobody had the heart to purposefully stop Emma from pursuing what she so vehemently claimed was her happy ending.

 

It was up to Regina who was the only person in this town who could be cruel for someone’s own good. She would stop this at the eleventh hour. Even if she ultimately had selfish reasons for it.

 

She slipped inside Emma’s apartment unchallenged, unmet by any soul as they were all on the roof, waiting for them. She came armed with a purloined bottle of champagne (not to Regina’s standard of course but then she’d skilfully avoided any involvement with the organisation) and found the bride to be, trussed up in white and lace and utterly un Emma-like, perched on a stool in front of the full length mirror in her bedroom. Regina could feel the nervous energy in the air, like a high pitched whine haunting the edges of her hearing. Emma said her name as soon as the door gently clicked closed. Regina left her fingertips pressed against the cold wood of the door behind her and made sure they couldn’t be interrupted. 

 

She was done with waiting and interruptions.

 

"Emma."

 

Emma met her eyes in the mirror, at once wary, yet relaxed in exhausted familiarity. She spotted the bottle in Regina’s grasp.

 

“Hey.” Emma stood, her movements jerky and awkward, unused to such a garment. She turned. “Got anything stronger?”

 

Regina huffed out a small laugh, before her nerves made her palms suddenly clammy and her heart proceed to try and gallop out of her chest. She quickly moved to the dresser, beside the mirror, placing the bottle down before she could do something idiotic like drop it.

 

Another interruption.

 

Another excuse not to say the words collecting and marinating behind her teeth.

 

Emma maneuvered over to the small window, her hands gathering up the voluminous cloud of white so she didn’t trip.

 

Regina’s gaze raked the blonde’s length. Emma had never looked so unlike herself. Even when she’d been clad in black and her countenance was as sharp as her words, Emma had still been some part of herself.

 

“I need to talk to you Emma,” the brunette cringed as the words, forced out from where they’d been hiding for years, took shaky first steps. She waved her hand to uncork the champagne with no distraction, no mess, and took a deep draw of the seething liquid.

 

“Those words never accompany anything good.” Emma muttered and turned to lean on the window sill, crossing her arms. “What’s wrong, Regina. Are you not going to stay for the wedding? Suddenly have to skip what’s supposed to be my happiest day? You got business outta town or something?” Emma looked at her with momentary scorn before her face became infuriatingly placid once more. “Give me that.” She held her hand out.

 

Regina, compelled to do whatever Emma asked when commanded in that tone, did as she was asked. Her fingers brushed Emmas as she handed the bottle over and she snatched them away, not missing the ghost of hurt flitting across that mask of indifference.

 

Emma sipped the sparkling beverage, and softened a touch. “I wish this was your cider,” she said quietly, wistfully, contemplating the ominous dark opening of the glass vessel. “What do you want to talk to me about?”

 

The moment was fertile and hope took root in Regina’s guts, and so she steeled herself, wiping her sweaty palms on the fabric of her coat, and took a deep breath.

 

“You can’t marry Hook.”

 

There. She’d said it. 

 

Emma just blinked, not even a change in expression. She took another sip of champagne.

 

“Why?” She asked evenly.

 

Regina felt the atmosphere in the room return from it’s brief relaxation into fondness back to razor sharp. She could feel the turbulent energy emanating from Emma. She’d never been very good at controlling how her magic effected her external environment when she was under extreme stress. Even when she had a professional poker face.

 

The brunette took a careful step towards Emma, aware of the risks of an Emma Swan when cornered. She gently reached out, noting Emma’s sharp eyes zeroed in on her hand as though it was dangerous. Tension rippled through Emma as Regina’s fingers grazed her free hand, and threaded their way between the tense, pale digits. She brought their joined hands up between them, inspecting how their hands fit well together. Regina turned Emma’s hand palm up, and ran her index finger along the creases she found there. 

 

Regina slowly turned Emma’s hand over again, and brought it closer to her mouth, pausing when she heard the sharp intake of breath, and closed her eyes before pressing her lips to Emma’s knuckles.

 

She felt the other woman tremble, the hand before her tense like the bowstring pulled, ready to loose the arrow to its destructive end.

 

“No, Regina," Emma ground out, as though in pain. She pulled her hand from Regina’s grasp and clenched her fists, her shoulders dipping inwards before she straightened and looked Regina straight in the eye. For a second Regina was taken back to the days of Mayor Mills and Sheriff Swan circling each other with sarcasm and barbed verbal jabs. "I have... waited," she began quietly. "I have waited for you. I've supported you. I've watched you throw yourself at Robin fucking Hood, time and time again, in-spite of what an… a…” Emma gestured angrily. “He was a fucking asshole who didn’t once prioritize you Regina, and i harmed myself by helping heal him when i was the dark one. I harmed myself  _ for _ you."   
  


“I said your name, once.”

 

Emma tiredly swept an errant strand of hair from her face, irritated. “What?”

 

“When we were,” Regina paused, wringing her hands together, her eyes flitting abstractedly off to the side before she could muster the gumption to say the next word. “Intimate.” The word felt rotten to the core.

 

“And?” Emma asked incredulously.

 

Regina gaped, “and? Emma, i-”   
  
"No, Regina, you don't get to talk right now you don't get to just say you have feelings for me and expect… In fact you still haven’t said -" Emma's chin quivered and her lips were pressed into a thin line. She took a deep breath, clearly attempting to center herself. "I've been there in front of you all this time and I've finally got someone who is forward enough and who actually fucking cares enough to know they want me."    
  
"Emma i want you!" Regina cried, confident that Emma would listen, confident that Emma just needed to know, just needed the straightforward, no bullshit words. 

 

Regina felt something release in her chest as she finally said the words she’d been keeping inside forever, before Emma’s words shatter something inside.

  
"Well, you are too late!" Emma threw her hands up briefly, before pressing her fist to her mouth and taking a few sharp, deep breaths. Her shoulders shook.   
  
"Emma, you were with Hook I couldn't very well-"   
  
Emma lets out a sudden bark of laughter. "Like Hook can compare to you in any situation," she said bitterly. "No, you are too late. I'm going to walk down this aisle now, and we are not going to talk about this again, Regina. You literally came in here, saying i can’t marry Hook, and still don’t have the balls to say you love me. You fucking love me, Regina. Just like i love you. But you still can’t admit it out loud.”   
  
"Emma please," Regina whispered before she threw herself at Emma, kissing her desperately. Her hands grabbed blindly, uncaring if she crumpled white, sickening fibres or mussed hair or make-up. Regina poured everything she felt into her lips, tongue, her teeth, her body pushing Emma against the window - uncaring that Emma's pinned up hair was becoming unkempt as her hands ran over it - uncaring that the bottle had smashed at their feet and was soaking into the hem of Emma’s dress. 

 

For a moment -

 

For a blessed, blissful moment, Emma pushed back, kissing her with as much fervour, strong arms pulling Regina closer.

 

For a moment, Regina’s world was right and she moaned as she felt Emma’s hand snake under her coat to cup her ass.

 

For a moment Regina was flooded with such relief she could feel the pressure of tears building, ready to burst the dam.

 

_ Oh thank god thank god thank god - _

  
Hands gently released her though, and cupped her cheeks and eased her back before Emma pressed her forehead against Regina's, breathing heavily, licking her lips. 

  
  
"Regina, I can't do this. I owe it to myself to be happy."   
  


"I can make you happy," Regina cried quietly, plaintively, tears starting to escape her eyes. Her hands curled around Emma's forearms.   
  


"Maybe," Emma nodded, "definitely."   
  


Regina's breath caught in her throat, her vision blurring for a moment, before Emma continued.   
  


"But I don't trust you not to break my heart."    
  


Regina could feel moisture on Emma's cheeks now, and the blonde sniffed and shook her head gently.   
  


"Regina if you broke my heart I don't know how I'd survive. Hook is survivable."

 

Emma kissed her on the forehead, wiping the tears from under Regina’s eyes with her thumbs but Regina didn’t even notice. She was numb. She focussed on her knees not giving out, on remaining whole and not shattering in the bedroom where Hook would soon be claiming his prize. Where Emma was going to continue her journey to some stepford, poor imitation of herself.

 

She felt sick.

 

Regina didn’t notice as Emma guided her to sit on the bed before moving to the mirror and with efficient movements, gathered her veil and train and moved to the door, before pausing.

 

“I’m sorry, i hope we can still be friends,” Emma said, bland of emotion, and before Regina could respond to that flicker of disbelief -  _ friends? - _ she’d opened the door and spoke to whomever was out there. “I know. I’m late. Can you help me put this on? And my makeup, i need to do something.”

 

Regina heard Snows assent, the subtle tones of understanding below her bright words, and Zelena’s derisive huff. She focussed on the deafening pounding of her heart, the way it felt like white noise was rising in her ears and the next thing she knew, she was gathered in her sister's arms, weeping like she’d killed Emma Swan herself.

 


End file.
